


An Academic Exploration of Demonology

by PFDiva



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: AU, Biting, Clothed Sex, Concubus, Foot Fetish, Frottage, Hair-pulling, I think fingering applies?, M/M, Morning Sex, Naked Cuddling, Objectification Kink, Trans Male Character, changing genetalia hasn't happened yet but it's definitely GONNA, fucking fight me man, i am recklessly and wholeheartedly projecting on Jon's sexuality, i probably should have tagged frotting before now whoops, nobody's pants come off but this is definitely sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28650420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PFDiva/pseuds/PFDiva
Summary: What happens when a kinky asexual summons a sex demon?  Jon finds out.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 83
Kudos: 206





	1. Chapter 1

The man who appeared in the center of Jon's summoning circle was, most surprisingly, dressed. He was a big man, a good half a foot to a foot taller than Jon, with curly red hair, a round, barrel-chested body, thick arms and solid legs, pale, freckled skin, and bottomless green eyes behind modest glasses. He was mouthwateringly beautiful and it suddenly occurred to Jon that he might have made a mistake.

The man dropped his gaze, looking up to give Jon the most breathtakingly shy smile, "Hi."

"Hi," Jon replied, his voice a dry rasp. "....you're a concubus?"

The man stepped closer, as close to Jon as he could be without crossing the barrier, everything in his posture yearning towards Jon very fetchingly, "I am. You can call me Martin. It's nice to meet you."

"Aren't you supposed to be a sex demon?"

That sweet, soft expression curled into a slow, wicked grin that shot heat through Jon like a pulsing throb, "You have reason to doubt it?"

Jon wasn't sure he did, but he genuinely hadn't expected this to work. He didn't know what to do with a sex demon.

"I'm asexual."

"I know."

"So what now?"

The wicked grin softened into a warm smile, "Depends on you. It is my nature to be everything you desire. I can do that better if you let me out."

Jon felt so off-balance. This wasn't at all going as he thought it might, "But I don't want to have sex with you. I'm no use to you."

Martin barked out a delighted laugh, throwing his head back and tossing his red curls as he did so. When he captured Jon's gaze again, he had sobered just enough to speak.

"You think I need you to have sex with me in order to feed from your sexual energy?"

Jon felt his face heat. He felt, suddenly, very foolish. Of course he'd gotten it wrong again. Of course he had. That warm, softly-freckled face leaned in closer still. One wrong motion and he'd be touching the barrier.

"All I need do is tell you how very much I want you to touch me." He moaned the words out, like he'd been waiting for Jon a very long time. Like he was desperate for it. "How much I want your fingers in my hair and between my thighs. Your hands are so elegant, and my hair is just long enough for fingers to sink into. How hard would you pull it?" He tucked his chin in, showing Jon the top of his head, and his hair _was_ the perfect length to pull. Jon could imagine how it would feel between his fingers, the sound the demon would make as Jon's knuckles dug into his skull.

Martin gasped then, a high, bitten-off sound that punctuated Jon's fantasy. Jon stumbled back a step, pressing his fists to his own chest, struggling to resist the temptation. He wanted to reach out, to touch, so badly. His blood pounded in his ears and between his thighs, his skin prickling with unanticipated desire.

Martin slowly sank to his knees in a rustle of sweater and khaki pants, apparently overcome, thighs clenched around his hands, his head bowed, voice raw as he begged, "Please. I-- _ah!_ \--I can't think of anything else. I need you."

Jon's resolve broke then. He soon had a fistful of red hair in hand, twisting Martin's face up so that Jon could see the flush on his pale skin, the way his mouth hung open as he panted for breath, his eyes glazed behind his glasses, his hands moving between his thighs and his hips shifting in ways both enticing and inscrutable. A shudder ran through Jon, and Martin buried his face in Jon's chest, one hand clinging to his ankle, the other shifting in such a way that Jon knew Martin had put his hand inside his pants.

Jon couldn't help but brace himself with a hand on Martin's shoulder. He could feel the big man squirming, panting hot breath against Jon. There was a slick, rhythmic noise that utterly gutted Jon.

"Please," begged Martin, "Please, I'm so close. I want to feel your teeth in my skin." Jon's knees turned to water. He sagged heavily into Martin, who didn't even shift under Jon's weight, he was so solid and strong.

"Wh-Where should I--?"

_"Anywhere you want."_

The outcome was predictable, honestly. Jon's fingers crept up Martin's shoulder to the neckline of his sweater, pulling it aside. Jon hesitated only a moment over the expanse of creamy, freckled skin. Then Martin squirmed and made a breathy noise, and Jon twisted his fingers in Martin's hair harder, pulling his head aside. The demon cried out, ecstatic.

Jon sank his teeth into Martin's neck, right at the place where it met his shoulder, and the guttural gulp that escaped him made Jon throb with heat. Martin's skin tasted of salt and warm skin and nothing interesting. Exactly what Jon expected. But when he shifted his mouth so that he could more thoroughly sink his teeth in, Martin gasped, high and tight and desperate, shuddering against Jon for several long moments before he went limp, his panting breaths huffing into Jon's ear.

Just when Jon began to tremble with uncertainty and peel his lips away from Martin's skin, large hands skimmed up the backs of his legs, pausing to squeeze his thighs, then his ass. He trusted his weight to those hands and was soon seated on a thick, warm thigh, spread just wide enough around it to feel very good, his hips subconsciously hitching. He'd loosened his fingers in Martin's hair to pet it now. It was exactly as soft as he'd fantasized.

There was something viscerally satisfying about having his teeth sunk into somebody else's skin, though. He couldn't bring himself to loosen his jaw. It meant he was rather awkwardly stretched upwards, but Martin's hands kneaded over his hips and thighs, grinding him into the thick thigh between his own. And he was making these breathy whimpering noises. It didn't sound like he minded.

Then a shiver went through Jon. It wasn't at all sexual, but it felt nice, distantly and in passing. The switch that was his libido turned to off and everything suddenly felt very ridiculous. He finally loosened his jaw, and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand to rid it of the dampness he'd left behind. He used Martin's sweater to rub away the saliva left on the demon's neck, though there was nothing to be done about the deep imprints of Jon's teeth in his skin.

Meanwhile, Martin's hands had migrated from Jon's hips and thighs to his back, supporting him and holding him up. It took a long time of too much fussing over nothing much before Jon was finally willing to meet the demon's gaze. His expression was fond and sweet, his face too close to Jon's. He nosed in closer, nuzzling his cheek against Jon's, giggling when his glasses clicked into Jon's. One large arm slid around his back to hold him up, hold him close.

"May I take you to bed?"

The circle was still in place. Jon would have to disrupt it for Martin to take him to bed.

"My books say you'll steal my soul. Or my life."

"Doesn't seem wise to murder my food source. Especially not one as interesting as you."

"And that you'll say anything to get out," Jon continued, raising his voice to speak over the embarrassment already evident on his face.

"You ever been to hell?" asked Martin, giving Jon a skeptical look.

Jon had to admit he hadn't, "N-No."

"It's hellish."

Jon couldn't help but snort his amusement, trying to cover it with a scoff, "You're not funny."

"Yes, I am," chuckled Martin, burying his nose in the soft spot behind Jon's ear, his glasses lightly digging in against Jon's skin. Jon shivered, his fingers nervously twisting in Martin's sweater. After a moment, he leaned away from Martin, rubbing out a spot on the summoning circle. Nothing happened, except Martin kissed Jon's neck, slow and lingering.

"Thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

If he'd been asked what being taken to bed by a sex demon was like, Jon would have been forced to admit that he'd assume sex would be part of it.

Of course, he hadn't accounted for a jumper-clad demon who went by the name of Martin. Who still had Jon seated on his rather significantly-sized thigh, even though Jon's arousal had already clicked off.

Martin stood and, with almost no effort, picked Jon up, large hands under his thighs, forcing his legs to wrap around Martin's waist. Martin was a very large man, so Jon ended up with his hands braced on solid shoulders, a warmly smiling face looking up at him, his everything pressed against the warm softness of Martin's front. Jon's arousal clicked back on like a switch had been flipped.

For the second time that night, it occurred to him that he may have made a mistake.

Without asking or even looking, as far as Jon could tell, Martin navigated them to Jon's bedroom. He gently settled Jon on the bed and sat down at his feet. Jon's stomach swooped with breathless disbelief.

With infinite care, Martin removed Jon's shoes and socks, one at a time, setting each piece aside. His hands were soft; gentle and warm and Jon could not find his tongue. Usually his problem was shutting up, but now? Now he could not speak and did not know what he would say if he could.

Once Jon's feet were bare, Martin's hands began to knead and massage into the tender flesh. Jon bit his lip hard, slowly melting into a puddle. Skilled knuckles dug into his arches, tender hands pulled and flexed and kneaded his ankles into submission. The thumbs in his achilles tendons did horrible, wonderful things to him.

And just when he was sure he could not bear it a moment longer, it stopped and he was left boneless in bed.

Sometime after that, he was fussed out of his clothes and into a shower (alone), then his hair was brushed and braided. His hands and wrists were kneaded into a similar state as his feet while Martin alternated between poking his tongue out with concentration and giving Jon small, sly glances from beneath his lashes.

He always knew when to stop, when something stopped feeling good or even interesting. It was upsetting. At least, it should have been. Mostly, it was nice. He fell asleep getting the best and most delightful back and shoulder massage possible.

\---

When Jon awoke, he was comfortably warm, a wonderful weight pinning him to the bed without impeding his breathing, that same weight heavy about his waist. And between his thighs.

That was the realization that brought him to wakefulness as he realized the prior night's events had most certainly NOT been a dream. He was still dressed. So was Martin. But the heavy demon had laid his torso and soft belly over Jon's hips, his own hips between Jon's knees, his head a warm, comforting weight on Jon's chest. He seemed to be asleep. Did demons even need to sleep?

Jon idly hooked his feet behind Martin's knees, relishing the way that caused the demon's weight to rest against him. His arousal hadn't clicked off before he'd fallen asleep, and now he'd awoken to warm arms wrapped around him and soft red hair conveniently placed on his chest. He couldn't help but sink his fingers into it.

The motion prompted a sleepy sigh as Martin turned his face up to breathe into Jon's neck. He still looked like he was asleep, but the more Jon pet his hair, the redder his face got. While Jon watched, Martin's breath sped up and got heavier until he was softly moaning with each breath. How could anyone be so sensitive? Was Jon that sensitive, even in his sleep? And Martin was still asleep, or so it seemed. Jon shouldn't be doing this. Probably. Martin hadn't asked for or agreed to it. But his breath felt good against Jon's neck, his little moans making Jon _throb_ with desire.

Just when Jon decided to take his fingers out of Martin's hair, the demon's eyes opened, thin slits of green peering up at Jon. He gave Jon a slow, sleepy smile and groaned softly, his body vibrating against Jon's, "That feels good. Keep going?"

Jon stammered in reply and Martin turned to press a kiss to the inside of his wrist. It was dry and chaste until Martin sucked on that same spot, his tongue swirling against the veins, his teeth the faintest pressure holding him in place. Jon's other hand reflexively moved to cling to Martin's hair, provoking a deep, rumbling groan and a redoubling of Martin's efforts.

Martin spent the next several minutes applying lips, teeth, and tongue to the sensitive spots on Jon's arms, gradually working his way up until his hips lined up with Jon's. There were several layers of clothes between them. He could still feel the hard, heavy heat of Martin's arousal pressed against his body. His breath caught.

Martin smiled then and rolled his hips into Jon; a slow, urgent motion that felt….far better than it really should have. Jon turned his face away, his hands helplessly clutching at Martin's hair. All that did was open his neck for lips, teeth, and tongue to gradually drive him mad. It also meant that Martin's hips hitched against him with more force.

Jon didn't want to get away, but it was so much. It felt so much better than it really deserved to. Martin lavished attention on Jon's neck, the underside of his jaw, the soft spot behind his ear. The whole time, he slowly, forcefully rocked into Jon, the motion getting faster and more intense every moment.

Just when Jon was sure he couldn't take any more, just when he was sure he would have to push Martin away, Martin's hips shifted so his erection rubbed Jon in _just_ the right way. Jon tipped over the edge into orgasm with a deep, groaning shudder, his hips hitching in response to the sensation, his entire body trapped in place by Martin's weight.

And then Martin's voice was in Jon's ear, "Please. I need-- _ah!_ "

Jon tightened his fingers in Martin's hair without question, again roughly pulling his head aside to sink teeth into the soft skin of his neck. His cries echoed in Jon's ear, and Jon was _certain_ he could feel Martin pulsing against him as he reached his own peak. It should have been disgusting. It wasn't.

This time, Jon didn't feel nervous about continuing to bite down on the soft juncture of Martin's neck and shoulder, the give of skin under his teeth more soothing than erotic. Over him, Martin continued to softly pant, squirming and whispering Jon's name, over and over again, quietly begging for harder, _more._

It occurred to Jon that if he broke skin with his teeth, Martin might not even mind.

As if to protest the thought, Jon's phone suddenly went off, shattering any lingering hint of desire and firmly flipping the switch that was his libido to off. Martin stretched over to grab Jon's phone with a protesting grumble, and after checking it, Jon swore and shoved the bigger man off of him.

He had to get ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently this is a series, now. Leave a comment if you want more. Like most authors, comments sustain me and my muse.


	3. Chapter 3

The Magnus Institute was the premier magical research in Britain. As someone with almost no natural magical talent, Jon had been lucky to get in at all, but someone apparently had use for a meticulous, industrious researcher. In a research facility. Go figure!

In spite of his limitations, Jon enjoyed his work and his coworkers. Most of the time.

Right now, he rather wanted to strangle them all. Elias, the institute head, for what he'd just done to Jon. Gerry, his boss, for choosing to use his powers to protect people instead of being here to stop this. Sasha, for being a pleasant, friendly person. Tim, for being an eternal flirt who was good at people and funny.

And Martin, for somehow having gotten himself hired at the Magnus Institute.

There was something surreal about watching Martin blush and avert his eyes from Tim's flirting, only for his gaze to land on Jon, embarrassment turning to molten regard that pooled heat between Jon's thighs. His arousal flipped on, and at the worst possible time.

Especially so because Tim, somehow missing all of this, strode over to give Jon's shoulder a familiar slap, "And this is our grumpiest coworker, Jonathan Sims! Jon, say hi."

"We've met," Jon ground out, mortified beyond all reason. Martin gave a shy little wiggle of his fingers.

"...hi."

"Wait--how do you two know each other?" demanded Tim.

Martin blushed at Tim, "I told you I'd have to consult someone."

Jon could have died. Tim said something incredulous and congratulatory, but Jon was already getting to his feet to grab Martin's elbow.

"Excuse me, Tim, I have to talk to Martin just a moment."

He dragged Martin into one of the empty offices, firmly shutting the door behind himself and gasping when warm hands gripped his hips from behind, Martin's body pinning his chest against the door.

"What are you doing?" demanded Jon, catching himself with hands carefully braced against the doorjamb. He didn't want the door rattling too much--Tim would absolutely say something crass. But Martin's lips moved to speak into his ear, breath hot against his skin, his hands shifting Jon's hips so that he could feel the heavy heat of Martin's desire against him.

"Only what you want me to."

"I don't want you to be at my _job!"_ Jon quietly snapped.

Martin kissed the side of his neck, "Maybe not. But you didn't _really_ think you could just leave me at home, did you?"

A little bit, yes.

"How did you even get _hired?"_ demanded Jon, instead of answering the question, ignoring the way he wanted to melt into a puddle.

"I have plenty of magical know-how," Martin very simply replied, "Like Elias said when he introduced me. You should have been paying attention, naughty boy. Besides, it's not like he's one to begrudge me."

Before Jon could question this strange comment, Martin's thigh pressed between his own, the hands on his hips grinding him against the warm softness. It caused him to shudder and go limp. It wasn't an orgasm, but it was release enough to make Jon feel sensitive all over and terribly vulnerable, pressing his overheated face to the coolness of the door in front of him.

As usual, Martin seemed to know exactly what to do, and leaned his weight more heavily against Jon's back to continue speaking into his ear.

"You know he wants you, right? Tim. I can feel it when he looks at you." Martin nipped at the soft spot behind Jon's ear, causing him to stifle a whimper. "But he gets his needs taken care of quite regularly. Nowhere near as satisfying as your repressed intensity. I wonder what it would do to him to be able to have you. Why don't we find out?"

Jon physically could not stop himself from clenching around nothing at the thought. He couldn't imagine what Tim's face would do if Martin offered Jon to Tim like a slab of meat, to be fucked and filled and abandoned. It shouldn't have been erotic. It was. To be wanted like that by someone who looked and acted and was like Tim? It was a lot.

But when Martin stepped back, pulling Jon away from the door in the process, true panic washed through him, shutting off his arousal as he thought about the reality of such an offer.

 _"No,"_ he commanded, twisting out of Martin's embrace to brace his back against the door, keep the demon from leaving, "You can't do that, I will find a way to send you back to hell if you _dare."_

He could see the surprise on Martin's face, quickly melting into amused fondness. He shook his head, "There would be no use to it. He's sexually satisfied, and you wouldn't enjoy it. I wouldn't get anything worthwhile out of doing that to you." Relief that washed through Jon, and Martin stepped closer, gently cradling Jon's face in his hands.

"Besides. It's a better use of my time to encourage him to seduce _me."_

Martin kissed Jon senseless before he could consider the fact that he'd really, really made a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the chapter where I remind you that Martin is a DEMON and the cute has an AGENDA. And also begin to introduce the rest of the cast. You'll hear more about the rest of the institute later, but this is an everybody lives AU because Gerry's got the braincell and he deserves the chance to use it.
> 
> And if you like this and want more, COMMENT! Like most authors, comments feed me!


	4. Chapter 4

Jon had never thought of himself as the sort of person who could be distracted by kissing. It was boring and wet and more than a bit like….well, licking someone else's mouth.

Even Martin couldn't make that terribly interesting. Except for the fact that his mouth tasted of something sweet with a sour tang. Like he'd been eating candy. Apparently, that was all it took for Jon to go from being disdainful of kissing to actively engaging with it. And, as usual, Martin's _hands_ absolutely undid Jon. This time, he used them to stroke knuckles over Jon's neck, a hand firmly smoothing down his side.

Then Martin's fingers curled at the nape of Jon's neck, his other hand grasping Jon's hip while Jon grabbed at Martin's shoulders, molding his mouth against the demon's. He tried his damnedest to chase that tantalizing candy flavor from every corner of Martin's mouth, while Martin made distractingly soft, eager noises. It was only when Jon's legs began to hurt from standing on his toes so long that he realized how ridiculous this was, his arousal flipping off.

He fell back onto his heels, awkwardly wiping spit from his mouth with the back of his hand. He might have gone further if Martin hadn't braced him, caught him. The fingers at his nape migrated to his shoulder, gently kneading sore muscles and causing Jon to look up. Martin looked terribly pleased with himself. Of course he was. Jon averted his gaze.

"We have to get back to work."

"Do we?" Martin's thumb stroked over the sensitive place where Jon's stomach met his hip, and there went the switch flipping back on again.

Jon's voice caught in his throat as Martin tenderly crowded him up against the wall next to the door, bending close to whisper in his ear.

"Because this office's door has no window and I want to take advantage of that. Take advantage of _you_."

"Uhhh," replied Jon, very intelligently. Martin's aggression was throwing him for a loop. Unfortunately, it was also _direly_ appealing.

And then Martin put his hand between Jon's thighs, cupping Jon in a way that made him squeak and scrabble at Martin's shoulders for purchase. Martin nipped at the underside of Jon's jaw, and his knees went weak, causing him to settle into the wide warmth of Martin's hand. It felt so good. Jon buried his face in Martin's shoulder, his brain utterly leaking from his ears. _Why did it feel so good?_

"You're so sensitive," Martin murmured, admiringly. Then his fingers began to move against Jon: his fingers slowly, deliberately lifting, one at a time, a dizzyingly erotic wave across Jon's crotch in one direction, then back the other. Jon's hips bucked, grinding into Martin's palm. The wave was less a wave now, more irregular, pressing most firmly against where Jon was wet and empty. Through his clothes at least.

Jon tried to open his mouth, to make a demand, to say _anything._ All that came out was a strangled whimper.

Martin kissed Jon's neck, his jaw, down to his shoulder, grinding his hand into Jon until Jon _did_ come this time, his fingers viced into Martin's sweater, his face buried into the arm he could feel flexing to drive him mad.

And then, as if that were not enough, Martin moved Jon from against the wall to sit on the desk. He didn't move his hand from between Jon's thighs. So when he seated Jon on the desk, he put Jon directly on top of his hand, making him shudder with mingled overstimulation and further desire for more.

Martin slowly removed his hand, taking care to grind a knuckle against Jon through his clothes before stepping back and canting his head to inspect Jon. Then he gave a decisive nod, seemingly satisfied with what he saw. Jon couldn't even gather himself enough to protest. He felt utterly disheveled, more than a little tired, wet, and _achingly_ empty. He couldn't imagine what Martin saw.

But the demon stepped closer to curl a finger under Jon's chin, lifting his head to give the corner of his mouth a tender kiss. "I'll give you a bit to collect yourself."

And then he left. He closed the door behind himself with a little farewell wiggle of his fingers.

Jon stared at the closed door for minutes? Hours? Time could not be real. He wanted to sleep for a week. It didn't feel like anything abnormal, didn't feel like anything had been taken from him, much as he would have liked to blame it on that.

It was just plain old run of the mill post-sex exhaustion. At least, he presumed so. Last time he'd felt quite like this, he'd spent a weekend working himself up with meticulously-curated porn until he could finally shut it all off to get himself off again and again and _again._ He'd gotten up to five orgasms in about 2 hours. It was something of a personal record. The vibrator had helped. He'd also been masturbating rather more regularly at the time.

It had been a lot of downhill from there--everything got sore and even though his libido was up, going anywhere near there had been an exercise in painful futility. But that was, what, 5? 7 years ago? Long time ago now. His body had settled into its new normal. He was getting distracted. The point was that he was a normal amount of tired and wanted to rest.

But he couldn't.

So he scrubbed his hands over his face, rebraided his hair, and went to rejoin the land of the living.

Noone noticed. When he came out, Martin was engaged in some sort of animated conversation with Sasha and Tim. Jon made it to his seat with no smoldering looks from Martin, no teasing from Sasha, no pointed innuendos from Tim, nothing.

It was almost worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, comments feed me, so if you like this and want it to continue, please comment down below!


	5. Chapter 5

Somehow, Jon got through the rest of the day. He'd expected Martin's aggression would continue, but like some switch had been flipped, he returned to the pleasant docility he'd displayed before. He brought _tea._

And it turned out he _was_ very knowledgeable about magic, quickly ingratiating himself to Tim and Sasha. Even to Jon.

But it was almost maddening the way he _didn't_ shove Jon against walls or grope him again. Jon wasn't sure if he wanted it or not, but he kept...sort of expecting it. Instead what he got were gentle, barely-there touches, the soft flutter of Martin's lashes, the way his face turned pink at every opportunity. It made Jon want….want…. _something._ Not sex. Perhaps to hurt Martin, make him suffer? No, that wasn't it, either. Martin was a nuisance, not a threat. Probably.

His thoughts were so distracting that he was coaxed out of work as his shift ended, and so consuming that he barely noticed the trip home. By the time he got there, he still didn't know what he wanted.

Then Martin gently pushed him onto the couch and settled at his feet.

A few things fell into place, sending a shiver down Jon's spine. Martin shifted closer, his hands on the insides on Jon's thighs like he was going to put his face against Jon's crotch.

Jon grabbed a handful of his hair, and he gasped, his eyelids falling to half-mast.

"I can't believe you like this," Jon murmured, wonderingly.

"I'm a sex demon," Martin reminded him, as if he needed that, "My yes factor is _very_ high."

"You could have done anything with your day," Jon replied, "Why did you follow _me?_ "

Martin rested his chin on Jon's knee with a heavy sigh, clearly resigned to the conversation.

"Because you _wanted_ it. I told you: I'm built to be everything you want. It's my nature."

That sent a sudden chill down Jon's spine, and he let go of Martin's hair, suddenly feeling….well. Icky.

"Are you telling me that the fact that I've summoned you forces you to act...like you do?"

Martin barked out a laugh, tossing his head back with the motion and sitting back to pull Jon's feet into his lap.

"You're a beautiful man, but you couldn't force me to take a swim if I was on fire."

That left Jon thoroughly poleaxed and just a little offended. His magic wasn't _that_ inept. Was it? For better or worse, Martin was in the process of taking off Jon's shoes for him, and Jon already knew what he could do with Jon's feet. He started to pull his feet back, but Martin resumed speaking.

"Our souls resonate. Most spells that summon one of us work like that." He pulled Jon's socks off, stuffing them into his shoes. "You called out and I answered because I am the things you want. And being on this side of the barrier means that I can see when I'm doing something you like. And when I'm not."

Okay, that was actually fascinating and Jon had to ask, "How?"

Martin gave Jon a slow smile as his thumbs very deliberately dug into the arch of his foot. It felt uncomplicatedly _good,_ causing sensation to reverberate throughout his body. His breath caught, but he glared, while Martin chuckled and kept going.

"With my eyes, mostly. You're not subtle." Jon pushed Martin's hands away from his foot with the other one, and Martin subsided with another laugh, his hands gently cradling Jon's heels. "And, yet again, I'm a sex demon. I have senses you don't. I can see and smell and taste things you aren't aware of. Combine that with the fact that we are complementary souls, and I can damned near read your mind. I might as well have been built to please you."

Martin rocked forward to rest his chin in Jon's lap, his hands almost absently caressing Jon's calves. "The only thing about me that was created specifically as a result of the spell is my appearance."

"But you look so normal."

"Some people call that being approachable." Martin shifted closer still, his hands shifting up Jon's legs, over his pants. Martin couldn't quite press his lips to Jon's belly yet, but it wouldn't be long. Jon very much felt like a damsel trying to protect her virtue, with his knees pressed together, his lower legs spread around Martin's torso while Martin's hands slowly climbed him. He wished he didn't like it so much.

"So," Jon said, desperately trying to sound like he was in control of himself, "We're similar people _and_ you can see what...arouses me?"

Martin was slowly working his way between Jon's knees, "Not just what arouses you, though that's a large part of it. What you _enjoy,_ what brings you pleasure, thrills you. It's much, much tastier if you enjoy me as much as I enjoy you."

Martin's hands were behind Jon's knees, spreading him open, Jon didn't know what to do with his hands. Martin's eyes made his destination clear and Jon couldn't decide if he wanted Martin there. He grabbed Martin's hair with both hands, pulling him back. Martin groaned ecstatically, long and low, rolling his eyes up to look at Jon. But he stopped. He didn't move back, but he'd stopped. He always stopped when Jon asked him to.

"You'll stop if I ask? Even if I am...turned on?"

Martin slowly nodded.

Jon loosened his grip.

Martin plunged in, pressing his nose into Jon's crotch, where he was wet and hot and aching for stimulation. He inhaled deeply, like he could smell Jon through his clothes, like anything there was to smell would be worth smelling.

Then he pressed his mouth against Jon. Jon let out a high, quavery moan. He was too eager, too open, but Martin's mouth was still moving against him, his nose grinding into Jon's clit through his clothes and now Jon didn't know what to do with his legs, he was _so close._

Fortunately, Martin knew exactly what he needed and grabbed him under his thighs, lifting his legs and spreading him open, almost bending him in half.

"Ah-- _Martin!_ "

Martin gave him a wicked grin and pressed in again, kissing and nuzzling Jon's crotch. He tipped over the edge with a shudder and a moan, his fingers fisting in Martin's hair while Martin continued to breathe hotly against him.

The continued stimulation made Jon squirm and kick. When he found that he couldn't go anywhere, he squirmed more and kicked harder, until he was fairly thrashing in Martin's hands. It was so nice to let go, to not be concerned about what would happen. Martin had him. He didn't have to be careful.

When Jon came again, he _shouted_ his pleasure, and could _feel_ some strands of Martin's hair snapping between his fingers, he pulled on it so hard.

Martin (gently) let him down then, and he remained sprawled on the couch while Martin….did something between his legs that sounded an awful lot like fingering a vagina. Or possibly a very well-lubricated ass, but the vagina was Jon's reference point, so he lifted his head to see what Martin was doing, exactly.

The angle was all wrong, Martin's arm, belly, and head were all in the way, and Jon still had two big handfuls of Martin's hair between his fingers, so he wasn't sure he _really_ cared.

Except he kind of did. Because he'd _felt_ Martin's cock against him, and if Martin's nethers changed, Jon was interested in that for completely academic reasons. His arousal clicked off as he thought about it. How often could they change? Was there a catalyst? Was it at will? Was wondering transphobic?

Martin let out a shuddering sigh, slumping between Jon's thighs, his head against Jon's belly. Jon absently pet his hair, because if someone wanted physical closeness post-orgasm, it was polite to give it to them.

But now he was really very curious about sex demons and gender. Martin nuzzled his face into Jon's stomach, which was nice and warm and sent pleasant sparkles up and down Jon's spine, but did nothing to distract from the line of thoughts his mind currently traveled down. Were demons genderqueer as a whole? Did they have binary genders? Did demons have their own set of genders that were completely different from the western binary ones? Were concubi counted amongst demons as a whole, or were they a subset?

He kept petting Martin's hair, and Martin finally laughed into his stomach, "I could eat you out right now and it wouldn't even be interesting, would it?"

"No," Jon replied, too distracted to prevaricate, "Please don't do that."

Wait.

Jon looked down at Martin in confused disbelief, "I'm sorry, _what?_ "

"Still a sex demon down here."

"You can't use that as an excuse for everything."

Martin was very definitely laughing at Jon, "I had an _orgasm_ down here, and you didn't even notice."

"I did notice," Jon replied, offended, "I just didn't care." Jon's libido presented him with a question mark. He decided no. "Anyway, I was thinking about your gender. If you have one."

Martin gave Jon a knowing smirk, "Just my gender? Not about if I have a cock or a cunt?"

Jon's arousal flipped back on, and he silently cursed himself for finding the crudity delightfully shocking.

"That...may have been...something I was wondering about."

"Do you want to see?"

Muscles Jon didn't usually think about squeezed, causing his breath to catch. Yeah. He wanted to see.

As usual, Martin seemed to know that, and his grin widened. Before Jon could protest, Martin picked him up, again wrapping Jon's legs around Martin's waist, and carried him to the bedroom, where he dropped Jon into bed with a laugh.

By the time Jon righted himself, Martin was shirtless and in the process of removing his pants. His body was exactly what Jon had expected from seeing it clothed: soft, hairy chest, round belly and thick hips, strong arms and mouth-watering legs. Jon couldn't help but clutch at his own knees in breathless admiration. Martin looked like this because this was what Jon found appealing. He _desperately_ wanted to touch.

But he wanted to watch more.

Martin, still looking pleased with himself, crawled into the bed at Jon's feet, prompting Jon to scoot closer to the head of the bed in order to give Martin more space. He was going to fold his legs under himself, but Martin grabbed his ankles, stretching his legs out and planting the flats of Jon's bare feet against the insides of Martin's thighs.

They were _so soft,_ and Jon couldn't help but press his toes into the giving flesh of Martin's thighs. And Martin definitely had a vagina. Much like his chest, it was covered in curly red hair. There was a shine there that Jon belatedly realized was Martin's arousal. His gaze was transfixed.

"Like what you see?" asked Martin, his voice soft and faintly teasing.

"Uhh," Jon intelligently replied. He stopped trying to speak when Martin put his fingers between his thighs, spreading his labia, showing off the moist pink flesh inside. Jon could feel his toes curling and flexing against Martin's thighs, which made Martin laugh, softly.

As Jon watched, Martin pressed a finger into himself, slowly fucking himself for Jon's viewing pleasure. It made Jon shiver to remember that Martin was showing off because Jon liked it. He couldn't lie to himself that he was being coerced or gaslit. He _very much_ wanted to watch.

Martin moaned, and Jon couldn't help but put a hand against himself, squeezing and lightly grinding into his own palm. Martin's hips shifted closer, his thighs spreading wider, Jon's feet being more firmly wedged into the soft flesh. Jon helped by keeping his legs straight. He could get off like this anyway. Martin's moans escalated into high, panting keens, two fingers pumping into his body, keeping Jon's gaze stuck fast while the sounds drove his arousal higher.

Just when Jon's attention might have strayed, a twist of Martin's fingers turned his vagina into a...very hard dick. Jon had no idea if it was particularly big, but it certainly seemed to fill Martin's hand, was longer than Martin's hand was wide. The transformation wasn't gruesome or even particularly jarring, and Martin didn't stop stroking himself, his balls falling between his thighs as Martin stroked. If Jon didn't know better, he'd have sworn Martin had been holding them up and out of the way. There was still curly red hair everywhere.

And when Jon could actually see Martin's cock, it was deep red, shading into purple, with veins running along it that Jon was curious to touch with his fingers and feel.

It was a little silly for Jon's arousal to click off then, but it did, academic curiosity replacing erotic curiosity.

"You can do that whenever you like?"

Martin moaned, " _Mm--!_ Uh. Uh-huh."

Jon lay back and looked up at the ceiling, his feet still digging into the softness of Martin's thighs. He was done. Officially and for real this time.

After a time, Martin finished, then laid on Jon much as he had in the morning, although this time, he was naked on top of Jon's hips.

"You should eat." Whatever Jon had expected, it wasn't that. Martin gave him a sweet smile when he looked up, and repeated the injunction to eat. And shower. And get an appropriate amount of sleep. In a few hours, he was clean and fed and ready to go to sleep. Martin hadn't bothered to get dressed at all the whole time, but Jon's arousal remained firmly turned off the whole time. Go figure.

When he was ready to go to sleep, Jon found Martin nude in his bed. He still had a cock and seemed to be making himself comfortable. Jon's libido again presented him with a question. He decided no, but did strip down himself.

Nude, Jon flopped into bed with his back to Martin and, as expected, got warm arms wrapped about his waist, a large, soft body pressed to his back.

"I shouldn't trust you like this," Jon declared, just to make himself clear.

"Mm-hmm," replied Martin, his face pressed into Jon's hair, his legs curling up behind Jon's. Jon could feel the tension unspooling from his body without his conscious intention.

"I know you're just..using me."

Martin shifted forward, his belly resting more heavily against Jon's back and gently squashing him into the bed. The pressure was so nice, he forgot to speak. How long had he needed this? Soft, warm pressure, bearing him down, keeping him secure?

This was very, very foolish. It was a mistake Jon would happily make again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a long chapter for you, I hope you enjoyed it. Do I know if it's coherent? No. Do I care? Only a little bit. But it's sexy as hell and let's be honest! I'm writing this to be sexy, not SENSIBLE. Either way, if you liked it, comment and let me know. Also, if there is anything you *direly* want to know, drop that in the comments too and I'll see if I have plans to work it into a future chapter.
> 
> ...I swear I actually have a PLAN for this. You should be afraid. I sure am.


End file.
